


Eyes Wide Open

by CaptainTarthister



Series: Open Door [3]
Category: Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: Adultery, Blow Jobs, Breastfeeding, Cheating, Coffee with breastmilk, Cunnilingus, Declarations Of Love, Divorce, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Lactation Kink, Nipple Licking, Or so Nikolaj hopes, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pregnant Sex, RPF, Smut, Spooning, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23013163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: He was light, not her.
Relationships: Gwendoline Christie/Nikolaj Coster-Waldau
Series: Open Door [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637320
Comments: 12
Kudos: 35
Collections: Game Of Thrones Romance, Game of Thrones





	Eyes Wide Open

**Author's Note:**

> In case you missed the tags once again, this is a work of RPF. If this is not your thing, go read something else.

Before letting herself in through the front door, Gwendoline caught her breath. She closed her eyes, breathing the sunny, slightly briny air of L.A. For a lot of people it was wonderful—strangely refreshing. She opened her eyes, squinting at the cloudless sky. Another thing of beauty.

Yet a part of her, and she supposed it would always be with her, longed for the gray sky back in London and its crisp air, tinged with rain even in the summer. Here she was in a ponytail and a tank top and she was burning alive. It was wonderful. But she wished for the cool, icy kiss of the air back home.

She unzipped her belt bag and took out the flask of water. The bag contained keys, a small face towel, a power bar should she get hungry. Around her arm was a band to hold her cellphone in. Though she walked up and down the block for a mere thirty minutes a day, she still kept essentials. Water was the utmost, the air here making her much more prone to dry mouth.

After finishing off half the flask, she unlocked the door and let herself in. She climbed up the winding staircase, quickly spotting the trolley and carry-on parked by the sectional. Nikolaj’s discarded trainers were on opposite sides of the room. Gwendoline chuckled, grunting, “Princess,” as she picked them up to place neatly by the bags. She forgot about taking care when bending.

When she peered in the bedroom, he was still fast asleep, now facedown and nude. She stared longingly at his beautiful, tanned body, missing having him with her, in her. He had been gone only a week and they FaceTimed a lot. She wondered how his ex-wife did it, because sometimes he was gone for as long as a month or two. It had been close to impossible sleeping without him. The special curved pillow she hugged helped with back pain but did nothing for her restlessness.

 _He_ was light, not her.

Although there were friends, books, and driving lessons to keep her occupied, Gwendoline was still basically a tourist in L.A. She had been living here close to two months already. To say L.A. was an adjustment was an understatement. And with what she and Nikolaj were going through, she was just waiting for the inevitability of them winding up at a therapist’s chair.

Leaving him, she went to the bathroom for a shower. Under the jets of water, she soaped herself with Cidal. It amused Nikolaj to no end how she kept having British bath and shower products shipped when there was an abundance of others just as good, and even better, on this side of the world. Gwendoline didn’t care that a half a dozen bars of Ivory was cheaper. She wanted to have as much of England with her as possible. She had given up scones and clotted cream. There was no way she would let go of Cidal and Charles Worthington Volume and Bounce.

Fresh, clean, with her breath minty from having brushed her teeth, she wrapped a towel around her head then put on a thick robe. Nikolaj was sitting up when she returned to the bedroom, short hair mussed, eyes half-sleepy. He looked a little cross but was smirking.

“Hey,” she whispered, going to him to drop a kiss on his forehead. When his arms wrapped around her waist, she let him gently pull her down. She got a glimpse of the soft light of desire in his eyes before his mouth was on her, his breath smelling of spit and his tongue dry. But she kissed him back, taking his face in both hands while he slipped an arm around her back. A warm hand pressed on her belly.

“Sorry I wasn’t with you on your run. Did you do okay?”

“I did, thanks.” She smoothed hair from his brow. “What time did you get in last night?”

“Pretty late. I tried not to wake you.”

“I don’t sleep well without you.” She kissed him again. “So you didn’t. Not really.”

“How are you so beautiful?” He asked, nudging the towel from her head. She laughed as it fell, and she shook her wet hair at him. A smile warmer than the sun broke out across his face as he resumed kissing her. Hand lowering past her belly, to the swelling heat of her cunt, he groaned, “I don’t like being away from you.”

“I missed you,” she admitted between thrusts of tongue. She widened her legs, pressing his hand firmer on her cunt. It ached fierce, like something molten and a firebrand spreading in her. _“Nikolaj.”_

More kisses, each more heated than the last. He caressed her cunt, sticky pubic hairs rustling loudly, wetly under his palm, then the barely discernible _plop_ of her labia parted by his finger. _Fingers._ It shouldn’t be this good. Locking a hand around his wrist, she clamped her thighs around his hand, rocking to the rhythm of his thrusting fingers.

From her belly was the familiar flutter of the baby, eager too for the return of its dad. She sighed when his lips traveled down the side of her neck. His hand, warm and moist from her cunt, returned to her belly, lightly caressing the spot where there was a series of tingles and the gentlest of pushes under skin. They pulled apart briefly to glance at her belly before she grabbed him to resume the kiss. When his hand rose to cup her breast, she almost melted.

“A treat,” he joked, making her chuckle and blush before he bent his head to take one of her leaking nipples. She groaned and clutched at his hair, loving to the point of sin the suction of his mouth and slide of tongue on her nipple. He drew milk from her noisily, his kisses almost harsh and so, so wonderful. He slipped to his knees between her thighs to take her other breast. On his face was the expression of pure bliss. She could look at him forever.

“Think I can get enough out of you for coffee?” He teased, making her laugh again then moan as he resumed suckling. She throbbed from head to toe, caught between the two fires of lust and love. When he had his fill, he kissed down her stomach, her thighs. Her newly pendulous breasts swung as she rolled her hips to his face, wishing for the abrasion of his beard on her cunt, his tongue on her clit. But he pulled away, helped her out of the robe. He rose on his knees, pulling her by the nape toward his mouth.

He tasted of milk. Creamy and sweet. She breathed quickly, muttering how much she loved him. As good as she was feeling, she was nagged by the dampness of the robe under her hips.

“Help me,” she said, trying to lift herself, grunting from the heaviness in her middle. Nik got to his feet, pulling the robe from under her before tossing it to a chair. Then he bent at the waist, this time taking her face as he captured her mouth. She sucked his tongue. Groped for his cock.

He was hard. Of course. It was easier to count the times he _wasn’t_ hard around her. He panted against her mouth from the storm of her caress up and down his cock. Suddenly she ended the kiss, only to push her face toward his thighs. She pressed him up, licked and mouthed his ball then the other. He gasped in shock, grabbing at her hair none too gently as she licked between.

She loved how he smelled here. When she wasn’t pregnant she most enjoyed smelling him from the nape, filling her nose with the warm, clean scent of him touched every so gently with cologne. Now it was different. Ruled by hormones and baby, she had no choice but to absolutely _adore_ the smell of his cock and balls.

“Gwen—” he gasped and seemed to laugh. “Honey, hang on—I haven’t showered yet.”

“I don’t care,” she growled, grasping his cock by the root and wrapping her mouth around him. They groaned. The _taste_ of him. That tinge of sweat and salt. He was warm. Hard. All male.

 _Her Nikolaj_. The last thought had her lips tightening around his cock, losing herself in the pleasure of his smell. His flavor. He was no chocolate, but he was fucking incredible on her tongue.

“Gwen.” Her name was a broken sound. “I _want_ —I _need_ to fuck you.”

A last slurp then she raised her head. Pink and gold spots danced before her eyes as she caught her breath. She blinked, at last seeing Nikolaj, the softened expression of his face making him look more chiseled yet also vulnerable. She closed her eyes as he kissed her.

“How do you want me? Where?”

“I don’t care,” she half-wailed. “Just fuck me. It’s been too long.”

He helped her settle on the bed, climbing behind her as she turned and bent her legs. He slipped an arm under her neck to pillow it, grasping one of her breasts. As she cooed and pressed against his chest, one of his hands slipped from behind toward her cunt. She shrieked from his finger plunging easily inside.

“Shit—” He started pulling out and she shook her head frantically.

_“Don’t stop.”_

Panting against her hair, he fucked her, stretched her. She squeezed her eyes shut, a futile defense from the knowledge that she would dissolve into sparks from the _unbelievable_ pleasure of just his finger. It was a struggle forming the words she had to say next because he was kissing her cheek, her breast, her clit. His cock nudged at her hips.

“Fuck me.”

 _“Yes.”_ Nikolaj’s relief drew another laugh from her, though breathless. She pressed his hand to her breast and thrust her hips, desperate for his cock.

He was careful sliding in, at a pace of a breath, two, two and a half before being fully inside. She could cry from the sensation of it. She felt complete, content. _Perfect._

Nikolaj gently pulled at her nipple. “Are you okay?”

_“God, just fuck me.”_

She pulled his hand from her breast to grasp it, needing an anchor from his hard thrusts. He gasped against her nape as swung back and forth, gauging the force she desired from her whimpers and moans. He put is other hand on her belly, right where it was tingling sharply this time then held him by the neck and hair. “Look at me,” she commanded, snaring his eyes.

Thighs and hips smacked hard into each other, cock slid in and out with a grace and smoothness to be envied. Nikolaj winced from her fingers in his hair but his thrusts didn’t slow down. She knotted her fist even more around it, wishing for his longer hair. Her breasts jiggled from the rough pace and once again leaked milk. Pale, whitish liquid dripped on the bed.

She sobbed once that familiar sensation of release hit her. Trembling, her throat arching, she made a nonsense, wheezing sound, spine stiffening as her cunt milked his cock. He held her tightly, the hand on her belly sliding to her breasts to squeeze them. He came with a groan, shuddering too before letting out a long sigh.

“You were gone too long,” she whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not admonishing you. But I really missed you.”

He kissed her on the shoulder. “I missed you too. You have no idea how many times I had to stop myself from cutting the trip short.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He didn’t have to answer. She knew. But when he started to let go of her breast, she wailed in protest and grabbed his hand.

“No. Stay. Stay with me. In me, Nikolaj. _Please._ ”

“Gwen.” He kissed her on the shoulder again, the neck.

They lay in silence for a while, holding each other, the sweat and juices from fucking drying on skin. Soon the room smelled of them and milk. Nikolaj softened inside her, then slipped out.

“They still won’t see me,” he whispered.

Gwendoline bit her lip. “She still won’t let the girls see you?”

A breath then, “No.”

She heard him move, the bed shaking slightly as he switched positions. It was awkward turning to better look at him. Seeing her struggle, he sat up, pilling pillows against the headboard for her to lean against. She murmured her thanks.

They sat together naked, lips still glistening and swollen from kisses, her nipples swollen, their thighs striped and splotched with semen and her squirt. She rested her hands on the shelf of her belly while he stacked hands under his head.

“Filippa I understand. . .she can’t be made to do anything being an adult.” Nikolaj let out a frustrated sound. “She’s living with the boyfriend.”

“She’s too young.”

“She’s an adult.”

Gwendoline stared at her belly, stroking it. While she willed for the baby to feel her touch, Nikolaj’s eyes followed the movements of her fingers.

“She’s not my daughter and she has every right to hate me but you’re her dad. She has to know she’s hurt you.”

“Exactly why she won’t see me.” Nikolaj turned on his side, placing his hand on top of her. “All I can do is wait until she comes around. If she comes around.”

“And your wife—”

“Ex.” He corrected, annoyed.

“Ex,” she repeated. “You’re giving her everything. Can’t she at least convince Filippa to see you?”

As she had suspected, Nukaka had refused the divorce, dismissing Nikolaj’s wishes as the thoughts of a man undergoing a mid-life crisis. Nikolaj went ahead to file for a legal separation.

They had been laughing, exchanging many kisses while assembling the crib when a hissing, furious Nukaka called on the phone soon after the filing. Though Nikolaj tried to remain calm, he ended up raising his voice before hanging up on her. The call lasted only less than five minutes, but it was enough to put him in a black mood for a few days. Gwendoline finished the crib by herself and put up the rest of the nursery.

A pregnancy put some couples to the test but she and Nikolaj also had a new house, a new country and an ongoing divorce to deal with. It didn’t take long for the news of his separation to hit the headlines. Nukaka gave one interview to a Danish publication but Nikolaj’s team snuffed out any trace of it quickly. While she hadn’t said anything damaging, the article cast her as someone with a happy, satisfactory marriage.

Gwendoline and Nikolaj were not hiding but they were discreet. Somehow, they managed to go around Hollywood looking at furniture, or eating in restaurants without attracting much attention. Her baggy clothes were not unusual since she often wore the style. Nevertheless, the situation felt like a ticking time bomb. It was only a matter of time before, say, a gust of wind blew at her top, revealing the bump and a lucky paparazzi to snap a photo. It was only a matter of time before one of his daughters or Nukaka posted about their affair online.

It didn’t matter to Gwendoline. But seeing Nikolaj hurt was not something she could just let pass.

“She’s hurt, Gwen. I hurt my girls.” Nikolaj rubbed his eyes. “I’m their dad and I hurt them. I’m supposed to be with her, her sister, her mother. But I’m not.”

“But you went to see your girls,” she insisted. “You could have just called but you went to them.”

“Gwen—”

“A lot of fathers in the same town won’t even see their children. You flew across the Atlantic.”

He suddenly chuckled but it was a weary sound. He smiled at her frown. “The things you do for love.”

She sighed, held his hand to her heart. “Don’t I know it.”

“I have no regrets, just so you know. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it.”

“What?”

“Take your pick. When we kissed for the first time outside your room? Back in Dubrovnik. The first time we fucked.” He chuckled.

She reddened. “You were like a train.”

“Is that a good or bad?”

“A lady never tells.”

He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose with hers. “I _adore_ trashy Gwen. Your legs were up _so_ high. I don’t regret fucking you. The many times we’ve fucked.” He kissed her on the neck. “Moving here.” Shoulder. “ Asking you to live with me.” Clavicle. “Choosing you.”

He kissed her on the belly. “This.”

Gwendoline gently touched his hair, his cheek before he caught her hand again. He kissed each finger. “Thanks for choosing me.”

He smiled, warm and sure. She hummed in pleasure as his lips brushed her mouth.

“I wish things were easier, Gwen.”

“Hush. Nothing worth doing is easy.”

They had each other again. Gwendoline rolled to her side, begging Nikolaj for his mouth right where she burned and ached. Folding himself behind her, his head by her thighs, he swept the cheeks of her ass apart to tongue her. His tongue was a wet, silken whip on her clit, dragging chains upon chains of cries from her throat. She writhed and pulsed against his mouth. Tremors overtook her body as he slurped her clit while burying fingers deep in her sodden cunt. Milk drenched the bed once again.

Her eyelids were heavy by the time Nikolaj gently turned her, and she was half-asleep when his mouth pulled at her nipple. The suction of his lips were arousing and also soothing. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep and float into a dream of baby blues and candy pinks.

When she woke up, she was alone in bed, a blanket pulled high on her shoulders. She pushed it away, sitting up with a grunt. She was hungry and the baby was stomping around her stomach to tell her. Laughing, she heaved herself out of the bed. Nikolaj’s off-key singing from the shower reached her ears.

Gwendoline put on an old, oversized t-shirt and drawstring shorts. Barefoot, she padded out of the bedroom then into the kitchen. It smelled richly of coffee.

“Him,” she whispered, pouring herself a cup. He had made coffee before showering. Half-full cup in hand, she looked in the cupboard for a package of oats. From the fridge she took a carton of milk.

While the oats cooked in milk, she put bread in the toaster, fried some tomatoes, mushrooms and sausages together in a pan. Nikolaj liked a light breakfast while she preferred a heavy meal to start the day. Since they started living together, he had begun to crave sausages and other heavenly, greasy meats for his first meal. She was happy to oblige him.

She was setting the table when she heard the sharp tone of a ringing cellphone. “Nikolaj,” she called out, putting the plates on the table and waddling to the living room. It was vibrating on the coffee table. Groaning as she bent to pick it up, she shuffled towards the hallway next. “Someone’s calling you—”

Her.

His wife. _Ex-wife._

From behind the bathroom, over the blast of shower, Nikolaj continued to sing.

Gwendoline didn’t know what made her do it. Only that she couldn’t shake the image of the hurt in Nikolaj’s eyes as he talked about his daughters. Daughters who refused to see him. Too hurt, too angry to see their dad. A part of Gwendoline could understand. She really did. But as his partner, as the mother of his baby, she refused to just be in the sidelines. Like it or not, she was part of this war.

A war that they may have brought upon themselves but also brewing for a long time. A very long time.

Turning away from the hallway, Gwendoline swiped the green phone icon. She didn’t answer immediately upon hearing that voice. _Her_.

“This is not Nikolaj,” she said.

The other end of the line fell silent. But she could hear the sharp intake of a breath.

“Do you know who I am?”

“He made sure I did,” came the haughty reply in English.

“I’m not going to apologize for loving him. I’m not sorry he chose me.”

She got a huff as an answer. Then what seemed to be a curse.

“You have not loved each other a long time. Long before he met me. He’s promised to give you everything you want. He’s given you the house there. And your summer home. He’s not given you shit for fucking other people.”

“You stay out of our marriage.” She had a soft voice, Gwendoline thought. Tight, clipped, slightly nasal. But she was not going underestimate her.

“You don’t have one.”

“Do you like what you did? Are you proud?”

“How can you look at your daughters in the eye?”

“Do _not_ —"

“I am. I am because it concerns Nikolaj. I don’t know you. I don’t care to know about you. But I’m not going to let you use your daughters against him. You have to be better than that.”

Another sound, harsh. She couldn’t understand but there were definitely words.

“Do they even know you were the first to stray?”

Silence.

“They can hate their dad for as long as they want. They’re hurt. They’re disappointed. That, I’m sorry about. I will never stop being sorry for that.” Gwendoline felt that familiar tingle and flutter in her belly and she put a hand there. The bread popped out of the toaster.

She plucked one, too hungry to notice the heat. She took a bite.

“He has given you everything. Without question. If you won’t ever lift a finger for him to see his girls, I’ll make sure you get nothing.”

She put the phone down and looked behind her. Nikolaj was still in the bathroom. Singing another song.

She returned the phone to the coffee table, stared at the device for a few moments before turning on her heel. In the kitchen, she finished setting the table—oatmeal in a bowl for Nikolaj, with a saucer piled with sliced melons, a platter of sausages, tomatoes and mushrooms in the center. On her plate were the two slices of toast and next to it, the dish of butter.

She heard the bathroom door open.

“Princess?” She called out. “Breakfast!”

“Do I need to be dressed?”

“Clothing optional.”

Nikolaj was at the doorway seconds later, hair damp, smelling nicely of her soap and wrapped in her fluffy pink robe. Gwendoline giggled and gestured at the spread. “Come eat.”

“You’re a fucking goddess,” he declared, kissing her soundly on the cheek. He pulled out a chair for her before taking his seat. While she loaded her fork with sausage and mushroom, he poured coffee in a mug. “Think you can give me a squeeze or two of your milk?”

“Will the baby have to fight you for my breastmilk?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked. “It’s your fault. It’s delicious.” He pushed the cup towards her, looking hopeful. “So. . .?”

“Nikolaj!” She guffawed. He chuckled and pulled the cup back.

“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, Gwen.” He took one of the halved tomatoes from her plate and popped it in his mouth. She felt herself get warmer as he gazed at her softly.

“Tell me?”

“I like us. I really like us.”

She stared back at him.

“Me too.”


End file.
